


it's high time for you to know

by eddieregretti



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, That is all, idk im bad at tags, just some good old fashioned, they're cute but they also dumb as hell u know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-01-24 17:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddieregretti/pseuds/eddieregretti
Summary: Richie suddenly discovers his feelings for Eddie and makes several attempts to confess them to Eddie. But, hey, sixth time's the charm or something.(or 5 times Richie tries to ask Eddie out and one time he succeeds.)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song "I Like You" by dandelion hands (which just so happens to be on my reddie playlist if you would like to listen: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0vIujgEr8ngoj7TiyHWIpx?si=XwLol6kATbqQxcMRiiXFVg )

Richie Tozier can't really explain why he feels the way he feels most times. He has never been the best at confronting his emotions and he knows that. As a kid, he cried a lot and when is mother would ask what was wrong, he would sob “I don’t know” and then keep crying. He’s figured out over time that the best way to not feel overwhelmed is to ignore any and every feeling you get. Now, any time anything gets too intimate, too personal, he will deflect, filter, ignore, _joke joke joke_. It's not an efficient or healthy system, he knows, and it will usually build up until he's having a full on breakdown alone in his room with snot and silent tears soaking his pillow.

Still, it’s hard to flat out ignore how he feels when he gets overwhelmed with emotions that he can’t quite comprehend. Like the feeling in his stomach when his father doesn't make it home from work to eat dinner together, or the lump in his throat when someone _Beep-beep_s him.

Right now is one of those times. He knows there's _something_ inside of him at this very moment, but when he searches his heart he can't quite identify what that something is. All he knows is his hands feel sweaty on his bike handles and his cheeks hurt from the smile he's being trying to subside for hours. He's pedaling so fast that he can hardly catch his breath, beads of sweat drip down his spine, the cool wind whips through his open shirt and his wild hair. He can't convince himself to slow down because it's been weeks since he's seen his best friend and he cannot wait a single minute longer.

Eddie had gone up to New York for the last few weeks of summer (despite his desire to stay in Derry, to take care of the house and the potted plants, Mrs. K has refused to let him) and it was pretty much _H-E-double-hockey-sticks_ for Richie. It’s selfish, he thinks, because he knows Eddie wasn't having the best time with his mother's family, but it just kind of… sucked. He was bored and restless and counting down the days until Eddie would come home. Maggie had said after a few days to "_please relax, Richie. It's only a couple of weeks, I think you'll survive_." but Richie couldn't help it.

When he comes up to Eddie's street, close enough to see the house, the missing car in the driveway makes his heart drop. The digital watch on his wrist beeps 5 p.m. Eddie should be pulling in any minute. _Why isn't he here yet?_

His bike collapses onto the front lawn of the Kaspbrak house as Richie settles himself on the damp grass, sprawling out on his back like a starfish. Seconds that feel like years go by as he waits, leg shaking and fingers pulling at the dandelions that surround him, and he decides to light a smoke. It's one of the most effective ways to pass time and he doesn't know how much longer he can just wait for Eddie without losing his damn mind. _Any minute now._

He's humming an anxious tune to himself, the cigarette nearing its end when he finally sees Mrs. K's rusty hatchback as it slowly comes around the street corner and approaches the house. All at once he's throwing his cigarette as far as he can and bringing himself back onto his feet, brushing off his pants. Before the car is even stopped in the driveway, the passenger side door opens and out hops a very tanned, very smiley Eddie Kaspbrak. He rushes towards Richie until he comes to a halt right in front of him.

"Right where I left you. What a surprise!" his tone drips with sarcasm but the grin across his lips gives his excitement away. It's reassuring that Eddie looks about the same way Richie feels.

He wants to speak, say something witty back, greet Eddie, tell him he's glad he's back, but all words are lost on him for a moment. He's distracted by how seriously tanned Eddie got in New York, and the darkened freckles that dust across the bridge of his nose. It looks like his hair is even a bit longer than when he left. It's a little greasy and curly, like he hasn't been brushing it. Richie’s stomach flips. The reasons behind his sudden interest in Eddie's hairstyle or why his heart is pounding just a little faster than before doesn't even cross his mind.

"Hi, Spaghetti." he finally breathes out. He suddenly feels bashful and a little stupid. "Oh man, I really missed-"

"Eddie-Bear, come unload the car for your poor old mother." Sonia shouts from where her head is buried in the trunk of the car. Eddie flinches, squeezes his eyes shut, puts on a fake smile, then whips around.

"Sure thing, Ma."

Richie watches as he starts rushing to bring the bags from the car to the house, Sonia disappears inside without actually lifting a finger.

"Hey, dipshit! Come help me with this fucking stuff so we can go to the quarry or some shit." Eddie shouts, holding three boxes at once. His face hidden behind the stack until he turns his whole body to look Richie's way. His big brown eyes are shining in the sun and Richie can't help but smile. And there's something about that right there, something in Eddie's harsh words and soft look that makes Richie swoon and he thinks he might finally _finally_ understand what that feeling is.

He might have a serious crush on Eddie Kaspbrak.

Yikes.

He doesn't really get to ponder on the revelation as Eddie is suddenly losing his balance, the boxes tipping over slightly. Richie reacts quickly, running up and taking two of them from Eddie's arms.

"Thanks, that was almost a disaster." Eddie grins (he's fucking _blushing_) then brings the box up the porch step.

"Jesus, I… I think I like you." Richie whispers, frozen in place. Eddie tilts his head his way, curious.

"What, Rich?"

"I said I hate your shoes!" _Nice save, dumbass_.

Eddie glances down at his feet, perplexed when he finds his plain old red vans that he's worn pretty much every day for years. He frowns and wets his lip with his tongue. _Cute cute cute_.

"Alright, fuck you, dude." Eddie giggles and it's a glorious sound that delights Richie’s ears.

Yeah, okay, Richie knows exactly why he was so restless the whole time Eddie was away. He didn't just miss him, he was, like, _yearning_ for him. Longing for him to come home. 

And that's it. That is the moment Richie swears to himself that he's going to try his very best to court Eddie. He's going to take him out, make him swoon and tell him how he feels, because he finally knows for himself. He can finally put it into words. He has a _crush_ on Eddie Kaspbrak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i forgot i actually posted the first chapter of this so here is the next one 7 months later whoops

It’s three weeks after Richie discovered his secret feelings for his best friend, _three agonizing weeks_, when he finally decides something needs to be done. He just can’t keep it a secret anymore. Eddie is constantly on his mind and at any given moment he desperately wants to shout to whoever will listen that he thinks Eddie Kaspbrak is the coolest, nicest, most handsome boy in the whole fucking world.

Unfortunately, he can't just do that.

He's trying to be smooth and calculated. The problem being that he's never been anything close to smooth or calculated in his entire life. He is nerdy, clumsy, awkward, impulsive but this is the one thing he can't afford to screw up.

He decides that if he tells one person about his crush, it won't weigh down on him as much, so he spends the first two weeks of the new school year figuring out which one of his five other friends to confide in. He simulates the conversation with each of them in his head, immediately writing off both Bill and Stan. Bill is the worst at keeping secrets and Stan would definitely make fun of him.

One day, he considers telling Mike. They're sharing a textbook in History class, working on some questions about the Second World War when he works up the courage to tell his friend. Mike goes on some great tangent about Nazi Germany or something while Richie sits there like a rock, staring blankly at him. He opens his mouth to speak, to interrupt with “_Hey Mike! I gotta tell you something_.” 

He chickens out before he can even get a single word out. Instead, he hums along like he had been listening intently the entire time. When they go back to reading, Richie promises himself he’ll try again later.

A couple days later, Richie is walking home from school with Ben, when inspiration strikes again. It’s getting dark, He can only make out Ben’s face from the dim glow of the street lamp overhead. Ben is fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie and staring forward like he’s buried deep in his thoughts and he’ll never come back out.

“So, Bennifer, got any exciting weekend plans?” he tries. Ben finally blinks, but doesn’t say anything. Richie can make out a faint reddening of his cheeks and while it could be from the crisp evening breeze, he also looks a little flustered.

“You’re withholding information!” Richie gasps. He pounds a fist on his opposite palm like he’s slapping a table. “Tell me what you know! Why were you at the scene of the crime?!”

“I didn’t kill my wife!” Ben says in a very timid Harrison Ford impression, holding up his hand like a gun. The seven of them had gone to see The Fugitive earlier that summer. Ben seemed to think that dialogue was the funniest thing in the world.

“I don’t care!” Richie raises his hand in surrender. His attempt to sound dramatic fails when he can’t stop the chuckle that follows.

They walk quietly again, the difference this time being the little smile on Ben’s face. Richie makes a mental note to ask him about his troubles again later, when Ben is ready to talk, but for now he will bring up his own issues. He reminds himself that Ben is the most non-judgmental person he’s ever met. If anyone can offer him advice it’s Ben Hanscom. 

He takes a deep breath.

"Ben, I gotta ask you-"

Suddenly bright headlights appear down the street, rapidly getting bigger and bigger, followed by some unoriginal hard rock music blaring and fast approaching. Before it’s too late, Richie realizes through the dark that it’s Belch Huggins’ car and pushes Ben aside. He dives out of the car’s path just as it swerves around them and they both land on the grass of Ben’s front lawn. Ben catches his breath.

“Thanks.” he rasps.

Richie begins to laugh, relieved, and then he can’t stop himself, laughing some more. Ben joins in and then they’re just cackling on the grass in the dark. Richie's train of thought is lost, then, and he doesn't remember it until later that night when he's alone in his room.

He still thinks Ben is the best choice to confide in, but he doesn't consider that Beverly Marsh can, and has always been able to read him like a fashion magazine.

The very next day, fourth period, Richie breathes in the fresh air behind Derry High. The gymnasium door is kicked open from the inside and out pours a group of about twenty guys wearing the most horrid gym uniforms imaginable. Richie dropped gym as soon as he was allowed to because, _Jesus Christ_, those uniforms were terrible. Whoever’s decision was to put high school students in little blue short-shorts with a light grey t-shirt that shows off every little sweat mark deserves to be fired and promptly arrested.

A whistle blows and the PE teacher comes out with a mesh bag of footballs. Richie tucks himself under the bleachers so he doesn’t get caught and sent back to his turd of a Chemistry teacher for the entirety of fourth period. He’s missed a lot of Chemistry ever since finding out Eddie had PE at that time. (Stan is in that class, too, but he can’t bring himself to care as much.) He looks towards the field in search of his knight in shining gym shorts and spots him stretching by the field goal. Richie watches, admittedly like a creep, as Eddie reaches one arm up and over his head, his t-shirt shifting with it. Okay, so maybe the person who created the PE uniform deserves an award, not jail-time, because Eddie looks fucking _great_ in it. It’s perfectly acceptable for everyone else (Stan included) to suffer through body insecurity if it means Richie gets to look at his best friend in tiny shorts.

“What are we looking at?” a voice breathes down his neck.

“Ah! Bev! Why?” He shouts before Beverly can cover his mouth. He kisses her palm and she taps him on the cheek like an adoring gentle slap.

“God, it’s like you want Coach Smelly to come over here and chew you out.” She mumbles, trying to follow his gaze to see just what he had been staring at. “What the hell are you doing?”

_I’m peeping because I want the image of Eddie’s ass in shorts for my spank bank later. Yes, Beverly, not only am I queer, but I am also a dirty creep._

Richie doesn’t usually think much before opening his mouth and blabbing away, but he knows immediately that he should not say any of that.

“I came out for a smoke, but I’m fresh outta stokes.” is what he goes with instead. “Think you can spare a square?”

Bev squints her face up in disgust, but pulls a pack out of her bag and hands him a dart anyways.

“Thank you, my darling.” he says.

She lights the cigarette for him after lighting her own and they sit quietly. Richie can’t help it if his eyes drift back to the football field. To Eddie. He pretends he can’t feel Bev’s confused stare into the side of his face and takes another drag from his cigarette.

It bodes well for Richie that Eddie is not hard to pick out of the crowd, being shorter and way faster than all the other students. He can spot him right away. His T-shirt is loose, drooping around his collarbones and the collar falls toward his right shoulder a little. It’s tucked into the shorts that are tight around his hips and ride up as he runs up the field. The kind of shorts he used to wear all the time as a kid and get bullied for. He’s since started dressing himself and looks a lot better for it, but Richie still appreciates the shorts.

A few minutes pass before Bev kicks his shin to catch his attention. He meets her green eyes with a blank look.

“You’re weird today.” She says plainly, and then in the same tone. “_So_, I did something pretty big the other day.”

Knowing Bev, that could mean pretty much a million different things. Maybe she finally robbed a bank, maybe she tattooed herself, maybe she made the switch to Diet Coke-

“I kissed Ben.” she finally breaks eye contact, flicking ash onto the ground.

_ Wait, what? _

“I know it’s weird, I can tell from your dumb face, but hear me out,” she mumbles.

She then explains an all too familiar situation. She’s had eyes for her closest friend for quite some time. It was all she could think about for months and, one fateful day, she impulsively took the leap and just fucking planted one on him. It explains why Ben was so stone-faced on their walk home last night, and it explains why Bev has been walking around like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. A weight that Richie wants lifted off his shoulders, too. He's happy for them, really. They aren't officially dating or anything, but he knows they'll get there. They've had eyes for each other since day one.

After literally applauding Bev, asking her a hundred questions about her feelings, and listening to her gush about Ben for fifteen minutes, Richie can’t help but ask a question of his own.

He stomps out his cigarette and brushes a hand through his tangled hair.

“So, you and Ben have always been kind of… flirty.” he lowers his voice to seem less serious. “Do you think you guys are a special case?”

Admittedly, that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but there aren’t a ton of ways to beat around the bush on the subject of trying to date your good pal.

Bev chuckles. “Clarification?”

“Like,” he clears his throat “do you think normal people can make that transition to… more than friends? Without ruining their friendship?”

Bev seems to clue in all too fast. Richie can practically see the light bulb turning on over her head. Her eyes sparkle and she pushes him so hard he falls over.

“Who is it?” she asks.

“What?”

“Who do you like? Come on! You keep audibly sighing like a complete nutcase _and_ you’ve had this sad, stupid look on your face for weeks! You literally haven’t looked away from the soccer field for two seconds since I sat down-_wait_!” She stops her rambling to scan the field, eyes squinting as she moves her gaze back and forth.

Richie thinks he might shit his pants. He’s so nervous. Never once in his life has he worried about any of his six friends placing judgement on him but watching Beverly get so excited makes him panic. It had never even occurred to him that any of his friends could react poorly to finding out he’s gay (or at least less than straight.) God, what if she hates him?

“Is it Eddie?!” Richie’s heart drops into his ass. “IS IT STAN?”

“_Ew_! What the hell! No, it’s not Stan!” Richie shouts back, before realizing they’re being way too loud for two people holed up under bleachers when they’re supposed to be in class. He sits back up and straightens his shirt out like he still has some dignity. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Bev narrows her eyes at him. “You like _Eddie_.”

Richie considers it.

“I dont know what you mean.” He mumbles passively. She rolls her eyes.

“Beep beep! This is serious. You _like_ Eddie.”

He wants to admit it, he does. He wants to say the words out loud, but it’s too hard. He feels tears blur his vision and avoids blinking so they won’t come out, picking at his nails so he doesn’t have to look Bev in the eye.

She sighs and scoots closer to him.

“It’s okay, Richie.” is all she says, and all she needs to say, really. Suddenly, he feels her arms creep around his torso and tug him close. A tear falls from his eye and lands on her pale pink t-shirt.

“You’re allowed to have feelings.” she whispers into his ear as she holds him. He sinks into her embrace and sniffles.

He doesn’t know exactly why he’s crying. Sometimes it feels like something isn’t truly real until it’s said out loud. Beverly formed the words and now they’re hanging in the air and the relief he feels is overwhelming.

He likes Eddie.

“I like Eddie.”

Bev gives him one last squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before pulling back. The smile on her face is huge.

It takes a couple minutes for Richie to collect himself. Bev patiently waits and when he looks back her way, she’s still smiling like a psycho.

“What’s wrong with your face?” he asks.

“You gotta tell him, okay?” The tone in her voice is so convincing and comforting that for a second he believes that’s a great idea.

“Um… no?” Richie says through an awkward half smile.

“Trust me. Just tell him. You will feel so much better.” Bev says. She sounds motherly and intimidating all at once. “Just like with me and Ben. You gotta rip the Band-Aid off.”

And if that wasn’t convincing enough, she winks and whispers “I have a feeling he likes you back.” like she is privy to some top secret information.

Richie’s heart is pounding in his ears and it only gets louder when Bev stands up to stick her head out from their hide away. Then she fucking _calls Eddie over_. Richie pulls her back down, but it’s too late. He shifts his gaze to where Eddie had been standing to see him already making his way over. His hair is sticking to his forehead and he licks the sweat off his upper lip as he jogs over.

It would be great material for Richie’s spank bank if he didn’t feel like he’s about to have a heart attack.

“Hey, guys!” Eddie says as he approaches. He ducks his head under the bleachers and crouches down next to Richie. “Didn’t I find you here just yesterday, Rich? Cruising for an A minus in Chemistry, huh?”

Richie tries to make a comeback but his voice just won’t come out. Bev clears her throat and nods her head Eddie’s way as a way of telling Richie to stop acting like a dumbass.

“Actually, we came for a reason this time.” Bev clarifies. “Richie’s got something to tell you. Right, Richie?”

Richie shakes his head at her. _God,_ he could kill her.

Eddie looks at him expectantly. He pushes his hair back, making it stick out all over the place. Suppose now is as good a time as any to break the news to Eddie. He sits up straighter, finally meets Eddie’s brown eyes.

“Yeah, I…” He says. _Okay, that was a good start. Now keep going._

“I’ve been thinking,”

“That’s a first.” Eddie elbows him teasingly, his cracked smile goes back to worried pursed lips when Richie doesn't laugh.

“I think you should join the football team.” he blurts.

Bev groans.

“What?” Eddie is giggling through his hand. The action would make Richie swoon if he wasnt so preoccupied coming up with a lie.

Suddenly it all comes flowing out of his mouth and he can’t control it . “Yeah, I’ve been watching you play and you’re really good. Not that I know much about sports, but… You know, you’re a fast runner, and you seem to enjoy it a lot. So. _Football_."

Richie doesn’t dare look at Beverly but he can just imagine the dumb smirk on her face. Eddie seems to actually consider the offer for a second.

“Try-outs are actually next week.” He mumbles. "You think I'd be good?"

Richie nods frantically. Eddie looks between Richie’s eyes and the ground multiple times before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “I’ll think about it! Thanks, Rich!”

He pats Richie on his arm with the world’s cutest smile on his lips, then stands up and runs back to the field with a little more confidence than he had before. 

Beverly bursts out into laughter, kicking her legs out and snorting loud enough for Coach Smelly to hear and send them back to class.

"That was the _worst_." she manages through gasps for air. Richie feels his cheeks redden.

"Shut up, Marsh."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading folks! tumblr: @eddieregretti


End file.
